


Rite Of Passage

by Laurelin (Lintelomiel)



Series: Growing Pains [3]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Family, Gen, Romance, Spiders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-18
Updated: 2012-02-18
Packaged: 2017-12-30 02:02:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1012716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lintelomiel/pseuds/Laurelin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not all who venture into Mirkwood come back out. Those who do, may just have a scar or trophy to show for it. Companion piece to <i>Growing Pains.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Rite Of Passage

**Author's Note:**

> This short piece takes place after the events described in _Growing Pains._

_Often, as he came and went, he would stop short_  
at the sight of a girl from Nonacris, feeling the fire  
take in the very marrow of his bones. She was not one  
to spin soft wool or play with her hair. A clasp  
fastened her tunic, and a white ribbon  
held back her loose tresses. Dressed like this,  
with a spear or a bow in her hand, she was one  
of Diana’s companions. No nymph who roamed Maenalus  
was dearer to Trivia, goddess of the crossways,  
than she, Callisto, was.  
  
~ Jupiter sees Callisto (Ovid’s ‘The Metamorphoses, Book II), transl. by A.S. Kline  
  
*  
  
Immortality. There was a reason some called it the ‘curse of elvenkind’, because for those who neither age nor die of illness, nothing is easier than to become indifferent to the turning of the centuries, to take for granted all that makes them enviable and privileged in the eyes of the ailing and the elderly. Haldir, too, had been guilty of this nonchalance. He was by no means ignorant about the possibility of death – he stared it in the face often enough – but he had unconsciously adopted the habit of delaying important decisions, telling himself that like a fine wine, all life’s changes should have time to ripen and mature. Why hasten to change the status quo? He was happy, perfectly content to continue floating in that bubble of ignorance and bliss that had been his constant companion since Love’s arrow struck his heart so unexpectedly, almost fifty years ago. And so he probably would have remained for some time, had not a chance encounter in Mirkwood reminded him acutely that being immortal was never an excuse not to live in the now.  
  
Over the past decades, Filanna had journeyed to Mirkwood regularly to visit her family, and although it wasn’t possible for Haldir to get a leave of absence every time, he tried to go with her as often as he could. He felt no guilt about that; his loyalty to Lórien had long been absolute, and it had defined him since the very day he had earned the right to wear the grey of the wardens, but falling in love had changed his priorities. His days of living the bachelor’s life were over; he had Filanna’s needs to consider now, and she was an elleth with a strong attachment to her family, who happened to live in a different corner of Middle-earth. He was deeply grateful for the Lord and Lady's understanding in this matter, for even if he himself could not be spared at the fences, they were always willing to grant Rúmil or Orophin leave instead. Knowing her to be travelling in the company of one of his brothers assuaged his concerns about her safety, yet he spent those weeks without her in a constant state of waiting, on his guard, as though bad news was just around the corner. However he took care not to lend voice to these gloomy thoughts, knowing that his fretting would irritate her. She was no bird to be caged, even if that cage was meant to keep her safe.  
  
This time they were travelling together, and it was a smooth and uneventful journey, until they discovered to their dismay that recent rainfalls had washed away a sizeable portion of the main road to Thranduil's halls. They were thus forced to take a different route, which led them through a part of the forest that was darker and more hostile than what they were used to, and they had to lead their skittish horses by the rein to keep them from bolting. The nervousness of the sensitive animals had made Haldir extremely wary, and he was loath to leave Filanna out of his sight even for a second, but at a certain point she put her foot down and demanded a moment’s privacy to answer nature’s call, stating that she couldn't manage it with him watching. Had he forgotten that these were the woods she had grown up in, and that she was no helpless damsel in need of constant protection? The tone of her voice told him that protest would be futile, so he let her go, albeit with great reluctance and a heavy heart.  
  
A few minutes later, a sudden clamor tore the silence in the woods to shreds-- the sound of branches snapping, a hiss and a blood-curdling scream, followed by a heavy weight hitting the ground. It prompted a number of startled black crows to take flight, squawking loudly as if in warning. As terror struck his heart, Haldir reacted immediately; running in the direction from which the noise had come, his sword drawn, he could barely suppress the urge to call out her name, afraid to hear the panic in his own voice. It was a short sprint, although fear made every stride seem like a thousand, and the sight that greeted him was of Filanna pressing herself against a gnarly tree as though seeking its protection, alive and apparently unharmed. Approximately forty feet from where she stood a giant spider lay on the ground, its hairy limbs twitching in morbid spasms of death until they curled up and grew still. From the black body protruded the shaft of a single arrow, which must have killed the beast at once. It was a far-flying, white-feathered arrow of the Galadhrim, but it wasn’t one of Haldir’s. It was of the slightly shorter and lighter variety that Filanna preferred.  
  
Filanna turned to him, looking shaken – she had never shot to kill before – but even in this moment she managed to sound snooty when she said, “Do you _now_ believe that I can look after myself?”  
  
“You were lucky there was only one.” Now that he knew her to be safe and well, he felt a brief surge of irrational anger toward her, causing his words to come out more sharply than intended. “I should have insisted you stay by my side. If you weren’t so damn proud--”  
  
“I will not squat and empty my bladder in front of you!” she shot back. Regardless of how often she scorned her royal blood, Filanna did occasionally exhibit what Haldir teasingly referred to as 'princess behaviour', and it was so typical of her to defy him at a time like this. Relief suddenly took over, and he laughed and hugged her, hugged her tight. She did not resist, and he felt her trembling body gradually relax against his, but after the passing of a few moments she drew back slightly to meet his gaze.  
  
“Your heart is pounding,” she stated in a much softer tone, reaching up to gently stroke one side of his face. “You were really frightened.”  
  
“Have I no right to be?” He glanced at the dead spider, which was roughly the size of a fully grown wild boar and probably just as strong. “Filanna, I shudder to think of what might have happened if you were any less skilled with bow and arrow.”  
  
“I didn't even hesitate,” she said, sounding surprised at her own feat. “I couldn’t afford to, it moved so quickly. I had only time for one shot.”  
  
“And you made it count.” Haldir felt, however inappropriately, pride welling up inside him. “Forgive me if you find my concern for your safety stifling, sweet one, but your continued well-being is a great priority of mine, and this incident has not endeared me to these surroundings at all. Let's keep going swiftly while we still have daylight.”  
  
“Can we take the spider with us?” she asked keenly. “We should have it preserved and mounted to the wall, as a testimony to my rite of passage.”  
  
His face must have spoken volumes at that point, because she started laughing. “Oh, love, you are so gullible at times. Obviously I was joking. Although I have to say, I wish I could at least take home some proof. My brothers, skeptics that they are, will never believe the story without solid evidence.”  
  
Haldir smiled in spite of himself, shaking his head as he gazed at the odd, beautiful creature he held in his arms. He opened his mouth and heard himself say, “I suppose we can take the arrow and one of the fangs. Will that suffice?”  
  
Her face brightened, and she gave him a smile before planting a surprisingly gentle kiss on his mouth. “See, this is why I never need reminding why I love you.”  
  
He sighed and kissed her back as he pulled her against him once more, just to savour the familiar feel and warmth of her body for a few moments longer. “I just can't seem to help myself.”  
  
Upon reaching the King’s halls later that day, they were greeted by Ameria and Orophel, who were playing a game of crocket in the palace gardens. Orophel saw them first and came at that them at a run, his dark hair swaying across his slim shoulders. He was a spirited lad, and the conclusion Thranduil had drawn shortly after Orophel’s birth – that the youngest prince took after Filanna – had proven to be prophetic indeed. It came as no surprise that the two siblings got along splendidly, and the lad was duly impressed when Filanna showed him the spider fang, asking her immediately if he could hold it. Ameria could not suppress a scowl of disgust when she saw Filanna’s trophy, but she too embraced her sister affectionately. Their relationship, which had been strained in the past, had greatly improved since they no longer lived under the same roof.  
  
“Has Orophin not come?” Orophel asked with noticeable disappointment. Haldir’s youngest brother, after whom he was partly named, was a particular favorite of his.  
  
“Orophel, remember your manners,” Ameria said sternly. “Greet Haldir properly, as you were taught to do. To disregard him and ask for his brother is very impolite.”  
  
“Don't worry, Ameria,” Haldir said lightly. “My feelings are not that easily hurt, and Orophin's popularity is nothing new. He wasn't able to join us this time, unfortunately, but he sends his warm greetings to all, especially you, Orophel.”  
  
Orophel blushed slightly, his green eyes – an inheritance from his royal sire – filling with repentance. “I am sorry, Haldir. Of course I am glad to see you. Will you play croquet with us? I have beaten Ameria already a dozen times.”  
  
“I would enjoy the challenge, young one, but it will have to wait,” Haldir replied kindly. “Your sister and I must first pay our respects to your parents and the rest of the family, which, if past experiences are anything to go by, will not be a short affair.”  
  
Orophel nodded in understanding and looked at the spider fang, which he still held reverently in his hands. “May I keep this, Filanna? Please?”  
  
“Yes, you can have it once I’m done showing it to the others.” Filanna winked at Haldir. “I don’t think Haldir would be too happy with me if I brought it into our home. He puts up with so much already.”  
  
“Very true,” Haldir teased back. “One of these days I am going to trade you in for an elleth who can actually cook.”  
  
“Indeed?” Filanna, who didn’t seem fazed in the least, smiled sweetly. “Well, don’t look to Ameria. Those delicate little hands of hers have never picked up a spatula either.”  
  
Ameria smirked in good humor. “We have other qualities though, don’t we, sister? That’s what keeps the ellyn around.”  
  
The two sisters linked arms and set off in the direction of the palace, giggling conspiratorially. Haldir glanced down at Orophel, who gave him a puzzled look.  
  
“What does that mean, Haldir? What are they laughing about?”  
  
Haldir smiled and put his hand on the lad’s shoulder as they made to follow the females. “One day you will understand, Orophel. But until then, trust me, you are better off not knowing.”  
  
***  
  
Time spent at the Mirkwood court was something Haldir had come to appreciate. The royal family was fun-loving and inclusive, and the daily gatherings were often an animated affair. Haldir hoped with all his heart that these trips would continue to be possible in the future, because he didn’t know what it would do to Filanna to be cut off from her family indefinitely. Secretly, he was still a little fearful every time the moment of departure approached, wondering if this time she would choose not to go back with him; but she always did.  
  
One afternoon, several days after their arrival, Filanna and Orophel were out on the archery range practising. It was a beautiful clear day, and when Haldir decided to go out on one of the terraces to read for a spell, he found Thranduil standing at the balustrade with his arms crossed. “My Lord Thranduil, I did not realize you were here,” Haldir said. “Am I disturbing?”  
  
“Not at all, Haldir.” Thranduil looked over his shoulder and smiled. “I was working in my study and heard voices outside. Come and see.”  
  
Haldir approached the Mirkwood sovereign slowly. Thranduil was friendly and approachable, but opportunities to speak with him privately were rare, and Haldir, who had served lords of high blood for most of his life, had never been able to fully shed his demeanour of humility and servitude in his dealings with Filanna’s father.  
  
Looking in the direction Thranduil had pointed out to him, Haldir saw Filanna and Orophel with their bows and quivers. The latter was getting ready to shoot an arrow and Filanna appeared to be commenting on his technique, as she was used to doing with her pupils. Haldir smiled and remarked, “The young lord is growing up fast.”  
  
“They always do. It seems only yesterday that Filanna was but a babe in my arms.” Thranduil gave Haldir a sidelong glance. “Does she still enjoy teaching the young archers of Lórien?”  
  
“Very much so, my Lord, and her skills are highly in demand. She could easily double the amount of pupils if she had the time, but her apprenticeship in veterinary healing doesn’t allow for it. And she enjoys both crafts too much to let one prevail over the other.”  
  
Thranduil nodded pensively. “Yes, Filanna needs a sense of purpose in order to thrive. Galadriel saw that before I did, which shames me still, but she will always have my gratitude.” He smiled suddenly. “But truth be told, if I had known then that I would be leaving Filanna in Lórien for good, I would not have been that easily persuaded.”  
  
“That is understandable, Sire.”  
  
“Understandable, but selfish.” As he gazed at his youngest son and daughter down below, Thranduil distractedly twisted the signet ring on his middle finger. “My duty as a father is to ensure my children’s happiness, not to sabotage it for my own convenience. Of course Aeriel and I miss Filanna’s presence here, but I sleep soundly knowing her to be safe and well in Lórien, among friends.”  
  
Haldir considered his response for a few moments. “I swear to you on Nimrodel’s memory, Filanna’s well-being is my first priority, and I would not expect her to stay in Lórien if I believed that she wasn’t truly happy there.” He paused again. “I love your daughter very much.”  
  
Haldir was not usually this verbally explicit about his feelings, and Thranduil’s eyes betrayed some surprise as he glanced at Haldir askance. “You needn’t convince me of your sincerity, Haldir. I have never doubted it.”  
  
“My Lord, I…” Haldir looked away in discomfort, his mouth suddenly dry as though he had swallowed a handful of sand. He was ill prepared for this moment, as it had come sooner than expected, but the opportunity was in fact too perfect to let slide. “Forgive me for being forward, but there is a delicate matter I wish to discuss with you.”  
  
Thranduil nodded and turned to face him, which did not help to increase Haldir’s confidence. “You have my full attention.”  
  
“I wish to marry your daughter.” Haldir hadn’t meant to blurt it out like that, but once his mouth had formed the words, there was no choice but to go bravely forward. “I’ve known it for a while, but I never saw the need to rush it. After all, our kind has nothing but time, and I’ve long been afraid to commit due to the dangers of my profession, but those misgivings now seem immaterial. I know this with great certainty: your daughter is the one great love of my life and I wish to be joined with her in marriage, whatever the future may hold.”  
  
“I see.” Thranduil’s face betrayed little. “And what are Filanna’s feelings on this? Has she accepted you?”  
  
“I haven’t mentioned any of this to her yet, my Lord. I wanted to ask your permission first.”  
  
“My permission?” Thranduil frowned, but he didn’t seem displeased. “Haldir, you know my daughter. Do you honestly think that my disapproval could dissuade her from anything she has set her mind on?”  
  
“Not dissuade her, perhaps,” Haldir said, “but your opinion matters a great deal to her, and I do believe that she wouldn’t be truly happy without your blessing. I wouldn’t put her in that position. That is why I came to you first-- to tell you of my intentions and to hopefully secure your consent.”  
  
Thranduil turned his gaze once more to his unsuspecting daughter and son down below, and for a short while the sound of their laughter was the only thing that could be heard.  
  
“I thought I was prepared for this,” the King said eventually, as a small smile appeared on his face, “but now that the moment is come, I find it moves me more profoundly than I thought it would.”  
  
“I realize that Filanna is your youngest daughter,” Haldir said quickly, “and you may think her too young to enter into such a commitment. I am willing to wait if you would have it so.”  
  
Thranduil raised his hand to indicate that he had more to say. “My father once tried to control my choice for a bride, Haldir, and I have vowed to never follow his example. This is what I know: you love my daughter and she loves you. Filanna is thoughtful and sensible, and not likely to make rash decisions. If she agrees to marry you, I see no reason to give you both anything less than my blessing and support. My only wish is that you be engaged for a year, in accordance with the ancient laws.”  
  
“I have no problem with that.” Haldir, who had had little hope for a favorable response, struggled to keep a dignified demeanour as a great, indescribable joy settled in his heart. “Thank you, my Lord.”  
  
“We are likely to be related soon, Haldir.” The mischievous spark that seldom left Thranduil's eyes was now very noticeable. “Don't you think it is time you started calling me Ada?”  
  
Haldir smiled and inclined his head slightly to acknowledge the jest. It wasn't the first time that the King teased him for his overly correct manners. “The one who once bore that name is no longer with us, and the word has too many painful connotations for me. But I am willing to call you by a less formal title, if you wish.”  
  
Thranduil's expression changed at the mention of Haldir's father. “Forgive me, it slipped out before I remembered... I did not mean to be insensitive. I merely wish to convey that there is no need for ceremony under this roof, especially after we shared this conversation.”  
  
“I know that, Sire, and I appreciate it. You and your family have always made me feel very welcome. I will try to mend my ways, but my experience is that old habits die hard.”  
  
Thranduil nodded and reached out to clasp Haldir's shoulder. “I am sorry, Haldir, but I fear I must return to my work presently. My clerk is not the most patient of elves, and matters of state are waiting to be dealt with. With regard to our conversation, you can of course count on my complete discretion. But just out of curiosity, when do you plan to ask her?”  
  
“I... I don't know yet,” Haldir said, experiencing a new surge of barely containable excitement as he thought of the turn his life was about to take. “I'm not sure if such a thing should be planned. The moment must be right.”  
  
“Don't worry.” Thranduil gave him an encouraging nod. “I do not doubt her answer, and neither should you.”  
  
With that, the King turned to leave, but as he made his way back across the terrace, he suddenly paused and turned around once more. “Did my daughter truly kill that spider by herself?”  
  
“On my honour, the kill was hers entirely,” Haldir replied. “The trophy was rightfully earned, and she needed but one arrow for it.”  
  
Haldir knew that Thranduil had not truly doubted the story-- he had merely wanted to hear it again. “That's my girl,” the King murmured, almost as if to himself. Then, with a smile that could only be described as one of paternal pride, he turned and went inside.


End file.
